08/17/2009

Virgin on the ridiculous

Here's a nice picture of Sir Richard. He's in one of his trains and he's throwing his hands up in the air. It's what I what I wanted to do when travelling with Virgin Trains this weekend.

My stepbrother and his wife live in Liverpool, it's not long since they've had a new son, so the other half and I decided to pop up and see them for a fleeting visit, out on Saturday morning and back on Sunday afternoon. Tickets were duly booked with Virgin via thetrainline.com

Now I know the above headline is not going to get me a job on the sub's desk at The Sun but I was really shocked at just how bad the whole experience was. The train out was dark, dingy and dirty, there were chips in our table, the carpets were sticky and I don't even want to go to the toilets. I mean I really didn't want to go to the toilet, they were that bad.

Staff on the train were surly and condescending. We were sitting two rows from the Shop - Virgin's version of a buffet car. We were so close, I could see the white's of the woman serving's eyes. At some point on the way up, I fancied a cuppa and went over to buy one. The woman took out a paper bag.

Thinking myself somewhat environmentally conscious - yes, I know evironmentally conscious travel editor is an oxymoron - I said to the lady that I didn't really need one. I was only 20ft away after all.

She insisted. 'Health & Safety regulations Im afraid... Sir,' in a reassured passively aggressive tone. 'If the train jerks on your way back and you squeeze the cup, you could spill it all over someone,' she added as though explaining it to someone with an IQ the size of a pea.

Surely, it's just as dangerous for me to have hot liquid in a bag. If the train jerked, the bag could fly projectile like out of my hand thanks to the swing and cover even more people. 'I don't make the rules up.... siiiiir,' she hissed.

On the return, the train was dark, dingy and dirty, there were chips in our table, the carpets were sticky and I don't even want to go to the toilets. I mean I really didn't want to go to the toilet, they were that bad. (You may be sensing a theme here).

We boarded about five minutes before the train left and made our way to our reserved seats. You know how it is... on some tickets you just have to have a reservation, though no one knows quite why and it also means you have to carry twice the number of bits of paper (more dead trees then). Lo and behold there was someone sitting there.

'Excuse me,' I said. 'I think you're in our seats.' 'Maybe so,' came the reply. 'But I was first on, there were no reserved signs when I sat down and Im getting my lap top out on the table, so Im not moving.'

'I'm sorry. You're what?'

'Look mate, I am not moving, so find another seat.'

At this point, the other half had to intervene, less the chap's laptop ended up mysteriously back on the platform. Given there were no other seats, we made our way up the train looking for a conductor or 'train manager' as they seem to be called these days. With none found, our only option - save for going back and starting a fight with Mr Ignorant - was to upgrade to weekend first. Another £30 for VT thanks very much.

Having rude customers with no sense of social grace is not Virgin's fault but the thing that amazed me was the train manager's attitude when he finally appeared to take the money. It was little short of 'I don't give a s**t'.

'If he's not going to move for you, he won't move for me,' he advised while swiping the debit card.

'So you don't have the power to move someone who is sitting in someone else's seat when you insist that I buy a ticket with a reservation for that seat?'

'No.'

This was only the second time I've travelled with VT and the one thing they did get right was to get the trains in on time. I imagine that actually cleaning the train or making a point by evicting passengers who refuse to move to the seat they paid for would mean them missing their timetable targets. But until Sir Richard can get both timings and onboard service right, I won't be rushing back for another journey.